Her lungs felt like they were a fraction of their size as she came up for air. Her feet had touched the rocky bottom, cutting into her toes, but it was nothing compared to the icy daggers slicing her skin.
Again, she plunged beneath the surface. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to see.Hurts so bad.
Hilary resurfaced, looking around frantically. She had to get out. The pier was too high to pull herself up. She’d have to wade to shore, find help before it was too late.
Laboring to turn, Hilary fought the weight of her clothes holding her back. She cried out. Every part of her body hurt. She couldn’t breathe.
It’s not supposed to happen like this.
Not Dane. Not him too.
She struggled against the force of the water, the cold. It pulled her down and she fought against it. Knives sliced her lungs with each ragged breath.
She stumbled on the uneven lake bottom and fell into the water. Hilary fought to find her footing again when an arm gripped her waist, hauling her up and out of the water.
She caught a glimpse of his face before Dane slung her over his shoulder. His lips were pulled back in a grimace as he plowed through the water, hugging her thighs to his chest.
“Have to warm up,” he panted. “No time.”
“I c…can’t feel my legs.”
Wind clawed at the fabric plastered to her skin. The pain was so excruciating she could barely form the words.
“Hang tight,” he said, gasping.
Hilary forced herself to breathe. It was even more of a struggle with her chest compressed against his shoulder.
The water splashed around his legs. From over his shoulder, she saw the tops of his boots emerge, then the pebbles crunched under his feet as he hobbled out of the lake.
He set her down gently. “Can you stand okay?”
Her lips couldn’t even form the word “yes,” so she shook her head instead.
“We need to get back to the Jeep fast. Here,” he said, wrapping his arm around her back. “Hang on to me.”
Hilary felt like she’d done as he’d asked, but she wasn’t sure, her arm paralyzed with cold. They sprinted together toward the car. Dane fumbled with the door handle for a few seconds before he was able to open it. Hilary dove inside.
In the driver’s seat, Dane cranked the heat. The air gusted against her wet clothes, making the relief of the warmer car short-lived. She sat there silently, catching her breath, fogging the windows. Her teeth clattered together so hard she thought they would shatter. Hilary leaned her head against the seat while he hunted for something in the backseat. A fleece blanket landed in her lap.
“It’s not much but it’s something. You’ll want to get out of as much of your wet stuff as you can.”
She eyed him, shivering. He was right. Her body would never warm up if she stayed in these wet clothes. It was twenty minutes back to Blueberry Point Lodge.
“I’ll hold the blanket up. For privacy,” he offered.
Hilary glanced out the window. It was still dusk. Their car was the only one in the small lot next to the pier. She supposed someone from the apartments above the shops across the street could see into the car if they really wanted to, but honestly, she didn’t care. She was as close to a human popsicle as she ever wanted to be, and that dry blanket called to her.
Dane unfolded it and held it up, his hands almost touching the ceiling of the Jeep and shaking like leaves. She peeled off the sweater. Weighted with cold water, it dripped across her lap before she tossed it to the floor at her feet. Her jeans would stay on. There was no way she was taking them off. Not with Dane two feet away, blanket or not. She probably couldn’t maneuver enough to squeeze out of them in the tight confines of the car anyway.
“Okay, I’m good,” she said, taking the blanket from him and draping it around her body. “What about you? Don’t you need…to do something?” Hilary didn’t see another blanket for Dane. He was in danger of getting hypothermia too if he didn’t get out of his wet shirt at least.
Dane shifted, trying to wriggle out of it. His fingers tried to undo the buttons, but they were probably still numb. He managed to get a few undone, but the last button flew against the dashboard when he grew frustrated and tore the shirt off. “There’s only one blanket,” he said. “I’ll be good if I aim these two vents toward me.”
If she weren’t two degrees away from cardiac arrest, a shirtless Dane might cause heart palpitations for a different reason. His shoulders and biceps were roped with muscle, smooth and sturdy. She tore her gaze away lest he think she liked the view a little too much.
They sat there shivering for awhile as heat circulated inside the car. The windows fogged over completely from their breathing. As sensation came back to her hands and feet, the realization of what might have happened hit her full force. She began to shake even more violently as a panic attack gripped her. She bent over, face near her knees, trying to control the ragged breaths wracking her body.
“Hilary?”
